


An Indulgence

by GreenMeridian



Series: Imagination [1]
Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: And Boris in fantasy form, Don’t copy to another site, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenMeridian/pseuds/GreenMeridian
Summary: Valery has some time to himself and lets his mind wander.





	An Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Another bit of smut for you all :)

He pushed the day’s stresses from his mind. Now was not the time for it. Not now, when he was growing heavy between his legs and stroking a hand lazily across his chest to tease his nipples. He had not sought relief for over a week; it was hard to be in the mood for it given his current circumstances. But tonight, he would indulge himself. It did not take him long to become fully hard just from touching his skin and imaging Boris doing the same to himself, and he couldn’t help but softly moan in satisfaction as he finally wrapped his hand around his solid flesh. He felt the heat of it, felt the veins pulsing against his palm. He gave himself a squeeze, then began stroking slowly, teasingly, letting fluid gather on his tip before smearing it around his head with the pad of his thumb. He was sensitive now, so sensitive, each slide of his foreskin over his head was divine. He reached down to cup his swollen testicles, feeling their weight and running his blunt fingernails across the wrinkled skin and pale blond hairs. What would Boris’ testicles look like, he wondered? What would his cock look like, flushed and hard and waiting? Would Boris moan if he ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of his head? Would he grab his hair and fuck his mouth or would he let Valery set the pace?

Valery stopped for a moment to take a small pot of petroleum jelly from the bedside table, quickly slicking two of his fingers and teasing the puckered skin of his hole. It had not taken him long to try this for the first time as a young man, after hearing about anal sex in the form of a crude joke from a fellow student. The idea had fascinated him and the moment his finger had breached his hole, he’d known that he was made for it. He pushed two fingers into himself and began thrusting them in and out of himself in a slow, teasing rhythm, occasionally bending them just-so and pressing into his prostate. He had often wondered if he could cum just from this alone, if it were another man’s fingers. Another man’s cock. He groaned at the thought of Boris sliding his thickness (because in his fantasies, Boris’ cock was always as broad as the rest of him) into his hole with little preparation, stretching him impossibly and filling every inch of him. He’d start slow at first, gentle thrusts, afraid of hurting Valery. But Valery would beg him for more, for harder, and Boris would give into his animal lusts and hammer into him. Boris would reach for his cock and he’d bat the hand away.

“I can cum like this,” he would say. “I can cum just from your cock.” And Boris would moan his name in the diminutive, kiss his jaw and bite into his shoulder and fuck him again and again until Valery was clenching around him, reaching his peak untouched.

Or perhaps Valery would reach for it and Boris would stop him. “I want you to cum like this.” And Valery would obey, however much his cock would ache with need, however much he felt like he would die if he didn’t relieve the pressure in his balls, and Boris would hold off his own climax and drive into him until he fell apart, sobbing with relief.

He was getting close now, wanted nothing more than to grab his cock again and stroke himself to completion. He crooked his fingers again, digging them hard into his prostate and he cried out a strangled, desperate noise at the intensity of it. His cock was leaking slick fluid continuously now and he gave in, wrapping his hand around it and stroking hard and fast, chasing his release. One final thrust of his fingers against his prostate and he was there, tightening around his fingers and shooting rope after desperate rope of cum across himself and choking out Boris’ name, picturing the other man spilling inside him, wishing he could feel Boris’ cock pulsing inside him.

He shivered as he pulled his fingers from his hole and lazily wiped them against the sheets. The mess across his stomach and chest would need to be dealt with but he didn’t care to move. The occasional aftershock sent shivers up his spine and he felt bone tired, too weak to do anything but lay there and let the afterglow wash over him. He wondered briefly what Boris would think of his choice of activity for the evening. A small part of him wished that Boris had overheard him and known exactly what he was doing. His final thought before slipping into sleep was of Boris with his ear pressed to their shared wall, fucking his own fist in return.

**Author's Note:**

> thegreenmeridian.tumblr.com


End file.
